Coworkers
by C.S. Williams
Summary: Sparky, of course, with a side of Sam/Jack. Because who can't help but compare John and Elizabeth with their Milky Way counterparts? Certainly not SG-1! And some shared SGA/SG-1 downtime is just the place to explore it.
1. Elizabeth & Jack

Title: Coworkers

Author: C.S. Williams

Pairings: Sheppard/Weir, Jack/Sam (and yes, it's a combination SGA/SG-1 story, so if you're a purist, I'll warn you now)

Spoilers: Nothing crucial, just a couple teeny references (no plot spoilers); setting is early season 3 of Atlantis, season 10 of SG-1

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or Stargate SG-1. If I did, this would probably appear in an episode or something...

Author's Note: It starts off as mostly SG-1, but later it's definitely SGA too. (In fact, I think it's primarily SGA, which is why it's only posted in the SGA section.) I know the crossover has been done to death, but I liked the idea of the two teams having just a little downtime together. I hope you enjoy!

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"And I think that concludes our meeting," closed General Landry, standing up from the briefing table. "And a special thank-you for the report from the Pegasus galaxy." He nodded at the side of the table where Elizabeth, John, Ronon, Teyla, Rodney, and Carson had seated themselves.

"Oh, goody!" Vala exclaimed, jumping up. "It's finally over. Who knew life-sucking aliens could be so _boring_?"

"Daniel, weren't you supposed to do something about her?" Mitchell asked. Daniel chose to ignore the comment.

"Well, I for one am glad I stayed for this profoundly uplifting meeting," remarked Jack sarcastically. "The Pentagon will be so very pleased."

"Sorry, General," replied Elizabeth, smiling. "Just be glad it's another galaxy for you."

"Hey, this makes paperwork seem not so bad!" Mitchell proclaimed.

"Good," said Landry. "Then you won't mind being confined to the base for as long as it takes to get your last twelve mission reports in."

"Twelve?! Cam!" Sam shook her head in disbelief.

"Damn," remarked O'Neill. "That's gotta suck. We're gonna miss you."

"Yeah, tell me about—wait, 'miss me'? What's that mean?" Mitchell was suddenly alert as he fixed a partly alarmed, but mostly suspicious stare on the general.

O'Neill shrugged casually. "Y'know, the BBQ out at Carter's tonight."

It was Carter's turn to look alarmed. "'BBQ at Carter's,' sir?"

O'Neill shrugged again. "I just _assumed_ it'd be at your place, seeing as how I no longer have a house in Colorado Springs. Do you want to disappoint our Atlantis counterparts?"

As Carter struggled to find a response that didn't qualify as insubordination, the others attempted to puzzle out just why one of the most respected generals in the Air Force had stopped making sense.

Unsurprisingly, it was Teal'c who was first to decode the cryptic Jack-speak. "Are we to join the Atlantis personnel in this 'BBQ,' O'Neill?"

"Got it in one, buddy!" O'Neill said, clapping the Jaffa on the shoulder. Teal'c merely stared at him impassively. "But don't play coy with me, Teal'c. How many bar-be-ques have you been to now?"

Teal'c's impassive stare never wavered, though it almost seemed to take on a more resigned quality. "Plenty, O'Neill."

"Great!" O'Neill exclaimed enthusiastically. "So it's settled! We're meeting at Carter's at 1700 hours."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Carter held up a hand to stop him. "Have you stopped to consider asking Carter if she's okay with that?" O'Neill opened his mouth to respond, but Carter stopped him again with a sigh. "No, of course you didn't, because if I don't agree to it you'll just make it an order and I'll have no choice but to follow it, despite the P8X-967 artifact just _sitting_ in my lab, waiting to be examined—"

"Carter!" O'Neill interrupted. "So that's a yes?"

Looking longingly at the mission folder in front of her, Carter sighed resignedly again and nodded. "But you're doing the BBQing. Sir."

Daniel's look of horror was mirrored in Teal'c's expression. "No! Do you remember last time, Sam? I vote Teal'c does the cooking."

Teal'c began to glower at the archeologist before considering his options and nodding. "I shall accept."

"Wait," Elizabeth intervened. "Look, it's nice of you to offer, but you really don't need to—"

"Don't be silly! You've been stuck in the Pegasus galaxy for three years, deprived of one of the basic necessities of life: O'Neill's—"

"Teal'c's," interrupted Daniel.

"—infamous BBQ surprise," continued O'Neill, ignoring him.

"What is the surprise?" asked Teyla, curious.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

"The surprise is how long it takes the ambulance to come save you after you eat it," replied Sam off-handedly. At the chuckles that followed, she added seriously, "I'm not kidding. The average is what? 2.4 minutes?"

"1.3 if the hospital is notified ahead of time," supplied Daniel.

O'Neill attempted to glare at both of them simultaneously, but eventually abandoned it to roll his eyes heavenward. "Fine. 1700 hours, Carter's house."

"General," began Elizabeth resolutely again, "we don't even have transportation—"

"You've got rentals topside, and everything else is taken care of, even the things I haven't thought of." O'Neill dismissed her concerns. "You're all coming."

"Even me?" asked Vala, brightening. She latched onto Daniel's arm. "Oooh, Daniel! My first barbie-cue!"

Daniel looked less enthused. "Hooray."

"Hank, you coming?" O'Neill turned to the elder general.

"Some of us do actually have jobs, you know," Landry replied teasingly.

"Yeah, I heard about that. Poor guys." O'Neill clapped his hands. "OK, kids! Four hours until rendezvous. Dismissed."

With a scattering of rolled eyes among the assembled personnel, the group left the briefing room.

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"Elizabeth?" Carson poked his head around the door to one of the SGC's translation labs. "Are you ready to go?"

Elizabeth glanced up, startled. "Carson!" She straightened some papers in front of her. "I was just looking over some Ancient writing." She tried to frown as convincingly as possible. "Ready to go where?"

Carson stared at her for a moment. "Oh, don't tell me you forgot. General O'Neill's little get-together?"

Elizabeth winced, pretending to remember suddenly. "Oh no. I'm sorry, I just got so caught up in this translation I didn't even..." she trailed off, looking at the pile of work around her. "Look, could you please tell General O'Neill I don't think I'll be able to make it after all? I still have all this—"

Carson sighed. "Elizabeth..."

Another voice sounded outside the door. "That sounded almost like an 'Elizabeth is finding some excuse to keep on working' sigh. But that can't be it, since we're dragging her if necessary." John Sheppard's head appeared in the doorway beside Carson's.

Elizabeth sighed herself this time. "I'm sorry, but I just started translating all this. It's going to take the better part of the night."

John frowned sympathetically. "That kind of sucks."

The relief at his understanding flooded Elizabeth's face. "See? So I'm just going to have to—"

"Oh, did you think I meant it sucks for us?" John asked, moving into the room to pick up one of the heavier translation tomes. He snapped it shut as Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest. "I meant for the translations that aren't going to get done until tomorrow."

"John!" Elizabeth stood up to rescue the book as the colonel held it just out of her reach. "It took me ages to find that reference! I can't believe you just did that!"

He raised his eyebrows, showing her the place where his finger had saved her page. "For now, the reference is safe. Whether or not it stays that way is up to you."

As Carson stood there, transfixed, oscillating between horror and amusement, the formerly dignified leader of Atlantis almost growled at John. "Give me the book, Colonel."

"You're coming with us, and when we get back, you get your book back. A fair trade."

"That's blackmail."

John shrugged. "Yeah. Now come on."

"But—" Perhaps sensing the futility of arguing with a crazy man, Elizabeth abandoned the attempt and nodded. "Fine. But if you lose my page, all bets are off."

"Deal. Pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Weir," John said, holding out his hand for her to shake. She ignored it and stalked past him into the hallway to talk to Carson.

"Women," the colonel muttered, carefully replacing the book on the table.

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Two hours later, Elizabeth Weir had to admit she was having fun, and she was maybe even glad Colonel Sheppard was more stubborn than any man she'd ever met. Rodney had spent the evening attempting to corner Sam Carter, and it was impossible to miss the grateful looks Sam shot General O'Neill every time he "accidentally" interrupted. Hank Landry had arrived about an hour ago, and he was mediating yet another dispute between Sam and Rodney while O'Neill looked on amusedly.

John and Cam (who had been granted a reprieve from his paperwork to attend) were still discussing virtually every current sporting event known to ESPN, which Teyla, Ronon, and Vala interrupted periodically for explanation (which Teal'c then attempted to interpret). And she, Carson, and Daniel were discussing the origin of the Ancients and Ascension. Elizabeth was hard-pressed to remember the last time she'd felt this relaxed.

"Hey, who's up for a game of football?" Mitchell suddenly called from the corner of the lawn where he and the others were standing. "We thought it'd be easier to show than tell." He gestured to the assembled aliens, all displaying varying degrees of confusion.

"The American wussy sport?" McKay couldn't resist adding.

"Put your money where your mouth is, McKay," retorted Sheppard. "If it's so wussy, play it."

"Hey, let's do Earth vs. Atlantis!" Mitchell suddenly suggested. "You have to have McKay, so we'll take Daniel. That way it'll be even."

"Hey!" exclaimed Daniel and McKay in unison.

John smiled. "Sounds good to me. Carson? You up for a game?"

"Oh, I don't know," the doctor said uncertainly. "It seems a wee bit out of my league, to be honest. I haven't played in years."

"Perfect!" Mitchell proclaimed, clearly seeing his team's chances improve. "Sam?"

She shook her head. "Thanks, but count me out, guys."

"You'll get to tackle McKay," Mitchell pointed out.

Sam stopped a moment to reconsider. "You know, on second thought, football sounds like fun."

"Hang on, _I_ want to slam McKay into the ground. Why can't he be on your team? He worked at the SGC," Sheppard pointed out.

"Hey!" McKay yelped again.

"You should have thought of that before you suggested Atlantis vs. Earth." Cam said nonchalantly.

"That was you!" John reminded him. Cam merely shrugged unconcernedly. "Fine. Come on, Elizabeth; let's show them what the Pegasus galaxy is made of!"

Elizabeth smiled. "Thanks John, but I think I'll pass." She winced at the pun.

"Yeah," said O'Neill, coming to her rescue. "She already promised to help clean up. No way am I letting her out of that one." She shot him a look of surprise.

Sam stared at him in mock disbelief. "Did I just hear General Jack O'Neill say he was going to help clean up? General Landry, I think we should institute Foothold procedures immediately!"

"Agreed," Landry responded grimly as O'Neill pouted. "I'll come help you too."

"We can handle it, Hank," O'Neill replied. "Besides, these guys are definitely going to need a referee, and I can't think of a better person for the job."

Landry nodded. "OK, everybody. Huddle up!"

"Football is the sport with the merry hails, is it not?" Teyla inquired as they went about marking the boundaries of the game.

Elizabeth missed John's response as she moved to help Jack clean the trash off the picnic table in the center of the yard and take the dishes into the house. "Thanks for that, General."

He waved her gratitude away. "Jack. And trust me, I know all about wanting to distance yourself from your...coworkers."

Something about the way he said it made her stop and turn to him. He simply continued innocently clearing away debris and putting plates in the sink to soak, and she followed suit. Once most of the mess had been taken care of, O'Neill opened the fridge and asked, "Beer?"

"Hmm?" she responded, taking a moment to process the question. "Oh, no thanks. But I'll have a Diet Coke if there's any around."

Jack grimaced. "What is it with you women and Diet Coke? Of course there's some around. Carter 'likes the taste of it.' Yuck."

Elizabeth had to smile at his disgust. "My fiancé had the same reaction. I couldn't keep the stuff in the house."

She didn't miss his eyebrows raise at the mention of the word "fiancé." As he recovered, he moved to take a seat on the back porch to watch the makeshift football game. They sat in silence for awhile before he finally got the courage to ask, "So, you have a fiancé?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Ex-fiancé, I should have said. We split up last year."

"Ah. That sucks." O'Neill took a swig of his beer. "But it makes way more sense."

She cast a sidelong glance at him while she watched John explain to Ronon that his job was to tackle Daniel (Mitchell adding that "it shouldn't take too much effort"), not Teyla. Somehow Elizabeth suspected Ronon was well aware of the rules in this particular instance. "How does that make more sense? You don't see me as the marrying type?"

"Of course not." Jack stared at McKay as he tried to argue that it was perfectly legal to run out-of-bounds for a few seconds to avoid being tackled, the re-enter the game field ("Canadian rules"). "I just didn't see you as one to flaunt the rules."

"Is there some rule against the leader of Atlantis being married?" she asked teasingly.

"Y'know what I mean," he said, rolling his eyes.

She shook her head. "Honestly, I don't."

He still avoided eye contact. "Y'know...inappropriate relations with a...coworker."

Ah. So they were back to his original "coworker" comment. "If you didn't know about Simon, how did you know he was offered a job at Atlantis?"

"Simon?" Now Jack finally did look at her. "Who's Simon?"

She was equally as confused. "My ex-fiancé. Simon Wallace."

"Never heard of him." Jack's attention was once again fixed on the drama unfolding as Vala tried to accuse Sheppard of making up rules against aliens, which probably wasn't unfounded, mused Elizabeth.

"Then what on earth are you talking about—" she followed his pointed gaze toward the game. Realization dawned. "Oh, you mean...that's purely professional."

He snorted in response. "Right. You're not fooling anyone."

Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. "He's sweet, but not really my type. Plus, he's dating Laura Cadman."

Now O'Neill's eyebrows flew through the roof covering the porch. "For the sake of his career, I should probably forget I heard that."

"Oh, I don't think he'd mind. Everyone in Atlantis saw McKay kiss him. It's hardly a secret." Elizabeth took another drink, oblivious to Jack's confusion.

"Wait, what does McKay have to do with Cadman and Sheppard's relationship?"

"Who mentioned John?"

"Isn't that who we were talking about?"

"I thought we were talking about Carson!"

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Between gasps of air, Elizabeth suddenly remembered something. "Wait, so you thought John—and I—" She burst out laughing almost uncontrollably, ignoring the sudden pit in her stomach.

For some reason, her laughter made Jack stop. "Look, Elizabeth." She went silent, unaccustomed to hearing such seriousness from the sarcastic military man. He was staring off into space, looking past the football game.

"What's wrong, Jack?" she asked worriedly.

"Just some...advice." He paused before continuing. "I know what it's like to...care about your coworkers. I know I'm really not the model for behavior you should imitate, but just hear me out. If you wait, one day he won't be back. Or you won't be there when he finally returns. Or you'll be separated by a force field on a ship that's about to explode, and time will be out. He should know. I know I'd want to know." He took another quick swig of beer to signal the end of his little speech, and Elizabeth felt irritation start to rise in the back of her throat.

"Why didn't you ever tell Sam then?" she asked frankly, turning away from him.

He sighed. "Same reason you won't take my advice. Fear. And there were always...other people."

She laughed wryly at that. "They call him Captain Kirk, you know."

He shot her a sympathetic look. "Sorry. That label probably applied more to me than to her, but she got a steady boyfriend. Agreed to marry him."

"Pete Shanahan, wasn't it?" Elizabeth smiled at him in empathy. "That can't have been easy, letting her go."

He fiddled with his beer label. "Yeah, I never actually got around to that." He sighed. "Look, just...don't make the same mistakes I did."

She was about to answer when a shout from John cut her off. "Come on, Elizabeth! I'm drafting you to replace McKay!"

"I am not that bad!" McKay yelled back, irritated.

"I'm really not much of a football player—" she started, but stopped when Jack put his hand on her arm.

"Stop distancing yourself. It doesn't make it any easier," he said softly.

She stared at him for a moment. Suddenly, without turning away from her, he yelled, "You can take her! She has to be the worst dishwasher I've ever seen."

"Fine then," she said in mock indignation. "I'll go tackle some big, strong military men."

"Actually," John started, jogging over to her with football outstretched, "we made it touch football. Vala thought it was unfair since she couldn't tackle Ronon."

"All the better," said Jack teasingly with a suggestive eyebrow waggle in Elizabeth's direction. She blushed slightly and rolled her eyes, grabbing the football from John's hands.

"OK, let's go." She and John started back toward the "field," but not before a look of brief jealousy passed over John's face.

As they approached the other players, Carter discreetly excused herself so McKay could have her spot (with Mitchell declaring they were already ahead by so much it wouldn't matter). Elizabeth watched her..._saunter_ over to where the general was seated and take his hand.

She stared at Jack in astonishment, but Jack's only response was a wink.

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Another A/N: I'm thinking of doing another chapter/companion piece with John and an SG-1 member. Would anyone be interested in reading it, and if so, who would you like to see the most? Thanks!


	2. John & Daniel

Thank you again to everyone who reviewed the first chapter (I think I answered everyone individually, but if not, thank you!). I hope you enjoy this one as well.

Oh yes...

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or Stargate SG-1. Anyone who's ever met me wouldn't even question that.

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John looked around the room, bored out of his skull. These monthly in-person updates to Earth were necessary, maybe, but listening to Rodney McKay for an extra couple hours a month was something John Sheppard could really do without. And judging by General O'Neill's expression and Vala's light snoring, he wasn't alone.

McKay was currently going on and on and on _and on _about some Ancient tech John couldn't recall. He figured this meant it wasn't life-threatening, since he tended to remember the more interesting devices by whichever part of his body hurt the most when he looked at them. John secretly wondered if the Ancient devices weren't a little ticked about being left dormant for 10,000 years and decided to take it out on the nearest carrier of that damned gene.

McKay's mention of his name briefly caught his attention. "—And after Colonel Sheppard oh-so-graciously volunteered to test the device by targeting it with the corresponding mechanism on the Puddle Jumper—"

Oh yeah. His left ankle twitched. He remembered this device now. He'd been giving McKay some crap for ordering him to test the device with a Puddle Jumper when the sudden energy surge had caused the Jumper to lurch to the side, spraining his aforementioned left ankle before the shaking subsided. He was really going to start suggesting McKay test these ideas himself in the future.

McKay was still rambling about the amazing effects of the Ankle-Killer when General Landry mercifully brought his blathering to an abrupt halt. "Dr. McKay, as fascinating as this is, what exactly does all this mean?"

McKay's eyes widened and his jaw dropped to the floor in disbelief. "What does this _mean?_ General, tell me you aren't serious! I would have thought the applications would be obvious by now, especially given the current situation—"

"McKay—" John started warningly.

"Rodney," Elizabeth interrupted him smoothly, "I believe the General is merely looking for a more...succinct explanation."

"...Oh. Right." McKay blinked like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment before recovering.

As he started to give his response (which, in John's expert opinion, was exceeding "succinct" by about five minutes), John raised his eyebrows admiringly at Elizabeth for her diplomacy. She smiled and nodded slightly in acknowledgement before turning back to McKay. As John started to do the same, he caught Daniel's eye and frowned confusedly when the archaeologist grinned at him.

Five minutes and forty-two seconds later, General Landry dismissed the meeting a little more gratefully than usual. As everyone started to get up, O'Neill clapped his hands, jolting Vala awake.

"So kids, whose turn is it tonight?" O'Neill was rubbing his hands gleefully, indicating he clearly already knew the answer.

Vala yawned. "Daniel volunteered."

He glared at her. "No, I didn't."

"OK, it was my turn, and _I_ volunteered you. Semantics." She waved a hand airily.

"All right, Daniel's place, then." O'Neill was obviously waiting for something else. When no one volunteered the information, he prompted, "And whose turn is it to pick?"

Still no one responded. Finally O'Neill asked pointedly, "Carter?"

Sam sighed, giving the others an apologetic look. "It's your turn, sir."

"Oh, goody!" He rubbed his hands together again. "Although I'm really not prepared..."

"That's all right, Jack, we'll figure out—"

"BUT," O'Neill continued loudly over Daniel's hopeful response, "I just happen to have brought some equipment with me."

The SGC veterans all groaned or winced. Everyone else looked at each other uneasily.

"Don't be like that! Just wait and see. I guarantee you'll love it!" When this failed to change anyone's reactions, he added cheerfully, "Or else I'll order you to love it. See you all at Daniel's at 1600!"

Everyone gathered his or her files before following O'Neill's lead out the door, following the sounds his impromptu "It's Good to be General" ditty.

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"Come in!" called the Scottish doctor, attempting to mask his frustration as he stuck his hand further under the bed frame.

"Hey, Carson," said John, walking into the room. "You ready..."

John trailed off as he saw the disaster area that had formerly been Carson's immaculate room. Clothes had been strewn all over the floor, and there was currently a rather large pile of shoes next to Carson's position half-under the bed.

"Uhhh, I can come back later..." John looked around uneasily.

Carson fully emerged and stood up, letting out a breath in frustration. "Sorry, Colonel. I'm just having a wee bit of trouble locating my other shoe."

John looked down to see Carson standing with one foot in a brown loafer and the other clad in only a sock. "I see. Uh, weren't you only on leave for a couple days?"

"Aye." Carson began to search the floor again. "But me mum insisted I take some extra, 'nicer' clothes with me." He sighed. "She heard I was seeing Laura."

"Oooh," John winced in sympathy. "She tricked you into telling her?"

"No." Carson paused in his search momentarily to throw John a significant look. "Rodney."

John winced again. "Ah. Mr. Tact."

"Aye, him." Carson suddenly snapped his fingers. "Rodney!" he exclaimed, moving to leave the room.

"And what can I do for you now, Carson?" asked the irritable scientist, choosing that exact moment to enter, looking distastefully at the mess around him.

"Whoa, nice timing," muttered John to no one in particular. If Elizabeth had been here, she would have appreciated it, but the two men were oblivious.

"What did you do with my shoe?" demanded Carson. John personally thought that was a little bit of a leap, seeing as how McKay probably didn't know a thing about shoes.

"Your shoe, what on Earth are you talking—oh, that thing? I was using it as a test subject for an experiment in the labs." McKay waved it away as if it were no big deal. "Why? Did you honestly want it for some reason?"

Carson glared at the scientist in extreme irritation. "Well, _wearing _it might be nice! I assume you've mangled it beyond all recognition?"

"Yes, the destruction of your shoe was crucial for ensuring the continued survival of life as we know it. You should feel proud it gave its life for such a noble cause," replied McKay sarcastically. "It's fine. We can pick it up on our way out."

"Good," Carson said, motioning to the door. "After you, Rodney."

McKay harrumphed but obligingly moved out of the room.

"Next stop: Elizabeth!" John announced triumphantly.

"Actually, Colonel, she left about an hour ago with Dr. Jackson," Carson replied. "They wanted to discuss some Ancient manuscripts he had at his house."

As they walked to the elevator, John couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Since they'd made these team gatherings monthly to coincide with the in-person updates, Elizabeth had always ridden with John. Admittedly this was only their second team-bonding day, but still, tradition was tradition...

"Snap out of it, Sheppard," McKay said as they reached the level of the labs. "If Elizabeth is going to blather on about the Ancient language, it's better that she spends those hours with Jackson. You know, at his house. Alone."

Sheppard resisted the urge to bang his head against the elevator door.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Hey, guys," Elizabeth greeted them warmly, opening the door with a smile.

"Hey Elizabeth. So, where's Jackson?" John asked nonchalantly. He was no longer a "Daniel." Daniel was a sweet and innocent name. "Jackson" sounded like he could easily be an innocent mass murderer. Not that, you know, John was thinking bad thoughts about him.

If Elizabeth noticed the change, she didn't say a word. "Daniel's in the back with the others. Everyone's here already."

He nodded and headed for the backyard, trying to pretend her casual use of the archaeologist's first name didn't bother him. Everyone called Jackson by his first name, because Jackson was so damn friendly. It certainly didn't mean anything. Not a thing.

"John, are you all right?" Elizabeth asked him softly, so the others wouldn't hear.

He looked at her and suddenly he realized how silly he sounded in his head. He gave an embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. I think I need a little more sleep tonight. It's this 'gate lag."

This earned him a laugh in return, and she swatted his arm. "Come on, General O'Neill was waiting for you to arrive to show us his big surprise."

He couldn't resist smiling inwardly and mock groaning. "Maybe I should head back outside then..."

She laughed again and pulled him out the back door. General O'Neill had assembled the others around a tarp on the ground.

"I give you my choice..." O'Neill swept away the tarp. "BADMINTON!"

Some groaned, others shot each other quizzical looks. Daniel stared at the badminton set in disbelief.

"No, Jack," he said emphatically. "Absolutely not. You do this just to torment me. I'm putting my foot down. I absolutely will not play badminton."

"What makes this particular minton so bad?" inquired Vala, peering at the set. "The people on the box seem to be having 'lots of family fun.' The little girl looks like she may have had a _tad_ too much kassa, though..."

"It's my turn to choose, so we're all playing badminton," O'Neill announced decisively.

"Fine," Daniel answered irritably. "Then I call referee."

"Nope," O'Neill responded cheerfully. "That's my job!"

"Fine," Daniel said, throwing up his arms. "I'm getting dinner ready."

O'Neill deflated momentarily. "All right, Mr. Party Pooper." He brightened almost immediately. "Come on, folks! It's badminton time!"

It took O'Neill only a minute to set up the net, but it took another ten to explain the rules of the game to the aliens of the group.

"You mean the entire point is to whack a bird at the other team?" Ronon was looking at his racket distastefully. "I don't think this is going to do it."

"It's a small bird," answered Vala knowledgably. "That way, the Earth animal-lovers don't ban the sport." She returned to poking at the ground with her racket.

O'Neill sighed. "It's not a _bird_, it's a _birdie_." He held one up. "It's just plastic."

Ronon looked even more displeased at the news of a plastic toy. "So we're just whacking a _fake_ bird back and forth?"

"Doesn't look very much like a bird to me," Vala added, looking up. "You'd think they could've done a bit better of a job recreating one."

O'Neill sighed again, and John caught Carter throwing an "I told you so" smirk in his direction, which he pointedly ignored. "Look, let's just try it, okay?"

The aliens shrugged confusedly, while the others picked up their rackets resignedly.

"Hey, we don't have even numbers," John pointed out, looking around.

"Leave it to the Mensa guy to figure that one out." McKay rolled his eyes. John glared at him.

"Actually, Colonel, we do," answered Carson. "You're sitting this one out."

John felt his mouth drop open. "What?! No way! Why should I have to sit out? Make McKay do it!"

"Hey, no fair!" McKay whined. "Just because you expect everything to go Sheppard's way..."

"That has nothing to do with it," interjected Carson before John could get his next snark out. He was a little disappointed, because it was going to be good too..."I'm still not convinced that ankle's healed properly, son. It won't hurt ye to sit out one game of badminton."

"See what your Ankle-Killer did, McKay!" grumbled John.

"'Ankle-Killer'? Since when did we decide you could name things again?" McKay muttered to no one in particular.

Elizabeth held out her hands to silence them. "I'm sorry, John, but I'm going to agree with Carson on this one. We'll try to muddle through without you." Her sympathetic gaze turned slightly mischievous. "If Rodney gets out of hand, you have my permission to assign Radek as head of science for a week."

"Deal," John agreed with a sigh just as McKay let out an indignant, "Hey!"

"All right, Pegasus in the back vs. Milky Way in the front!" O'Neill ordered them to their two separate sides to begin.

As the game began, John chose a nice-looking lawn chair to begin sulking. He had to admit, it was a little entertaining watching the others have to deal with McKay for a change. About five minutes after he sat down, however, Jackson came to sit beside him.

"I hate badminton," the archaeologist remarked ruefully. "Jack knows it too. It's not enough to make fun of the history geek, he has to rub in my lack of athletic ability too."

John chuckled in spite of himself. Curious, he asked, "What's so bad about badminton?" He cringed. "Pardon the pun."

Jackson smiled briefly before sighing. "You can't tell anyone about this. When I was four, I accidentally left up the net when my parents and I were done playing one day. The next morning, we got a flyer asking if we had seen our neighbor's pet parrot. We said no, of course we hadn't. Two days later, my dad tells me to go take the net down. Sure enough, right in the middle, is this parrot with his beak caught in the webbing."

John couldn't resist a snort of laughter. "How traumatic!"

"Hey, I was four!"

"What'd you tell your neighbors?" John asked after a minute.

Jackson shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "Nothing. I just untangled the bird and dropped it on their doorstep. I don't even know if it was still alive."

John laughed harder. "It's hard to imagine you not doing the right thing."

"Remember, you were sworn to secrecy. You can't tell _anyone_. Especially not Elizabeth." Jackson turned to watch the game.

"Why Elizabeth specifically?" John couldn't resist asking, trying to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

Jackson shrugged and took a swig of his bottle of water. He smiled a little secretively. "Oh, you know. I just don't want her to get the wrong idea about me."

John decided against answering that, instead watching the badminton game. Ronon hadn't seemed to quite catch the purpose, since he was holding his racket like a club and whacking the birdie whenever it came near him. Teal'c, in contrast, was really getting into the game. He was pretty graceful as he tapped the birdie toward the Atlantis team. Vala was aiming her shots at O'Neill; John got the feeling she was less than pleased with the thrill of his choice in sports.

Jackson cleared his throat. "So, Elizabeth is a pretty attractive woman, isn't she?"

John tensed. "Can't say I've ever really looked," he lied, attempting nonchalance.

"Oh, come on," Jackson said lightly. "You're a guy; you can't really miss it."

John felt something start to burn in his chest, and he kept his face turned away from the archaeologist. "Well, maybe we're not all as observant as you," he finally managed through clenched teeth.

"I mean," continued Jackson, ignoring his comment, "she's brilliant, and clearly she's capable of taking care of herself. She reminds me a lot of my ex-girlfriend, Sarah. Before she was Goa'ulded, you know."

John kept silent, trying to stop the muscle twitching in his jaw.

"And it must be great to have someone like Liz where you don't have to worry about security clearance." Jackson really didn't know when to shut up. And "Liz"?! "She's probably one of the best catches in two galaxies, wouldn't you say?"

John barely managed a grunt.

Jackson finally noticed something was up. "Are you okay?"

John took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Jackson winced. "Sorry. I guess I should've brought up your relationship with Elizabeth a little more subtly, huh?"

John's brain took a moment to process his last statement. He finally turned toward the other man. "_My_ relationship with her? If you're worried you've got competition, you don't need to be."

Jackson's eyes widened. "Oh, no no no no no no! You thought—oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that at all!" At John's puzzled look, he added, "I'm not interested in Elizabeth! I mean, we're friends, but that's it. I was just trying to get you to talk about your interest in her."

"I don't have any interest in her," answered John automatically, deliberating ignoring the relief flooding him.

"Sure," Daniel scoffed. "And the fact that you just got so jealous you couldn't even speak a minute ago?"

"Hey! That wasn't jealousy, that was...concern for, you know, Elizabeth's emotional well-being." John finished lamely.

"Right." They sat there watching McKay and Carter arguing over whether his shot had been in or out of bounds. Finally Carter appealed to O'Neill, and he immediately sided with her. Carter's face lit up, and O'Neill tried to hide his smile.

"That was in, you know," commented Daniel.

"General O'Neill just said it was out," John corrected.

Daniel smiled. "I know." John gave him a quizzical look, and he spoke again. "If that had been you, would you have sided with McKay?"

"If he was right, sure," replied John.

"What if he were arguing with Elizabeth?" Daniel fixed a rather piercing gaze on John, who immediately starting shifting a little uncomfortably.

"Well, you know, if McKay was right..." John stalled.

"If you knew Elizabeth was going to beam at you like Sam just did?" Daniel shook his head. "I'll bet you'd side with her."

John nodded a little reluctantly. "Probably. I mean, it's _McKay_," he joked.

After a moment's hesitation, Daniel spoke again. "Don't make the same mistake they did."

"Huh?" asked John, momentarily thrown.

Daniel was looking wistfully at the game, but somehow John got the feeling he wasn't really seeing it. "They waited. They didn't have to. I always figured they weren't really all that in love, because if they'd been in love they would have found a way. The President would have given them special permission, without a doubt, but they never even asked. He never retired, she never transferred to the civilian science division. They wouldn't even have had to leave SG-1. They could have found a way."

John was feeling a little lost as Daniel continued. "Then Sam would get captured by the NID, or Jack would get stranded off-world. And I watched them, and it dawned on me. They were terrified. They figured if they didn't get involved, losing each other wouldn't hurt as much. What they never realized was that they were as involved as they ever could be. Even when Sam agreed to marry Pete, she never had the same connection to him that she had to Jack."

"Elizabeth's the leader of the entire expedition, though," John pointed out. Hey, he could've joined Mensa; he could see where this was leading.

"So?" Daniel asked him, and John couldn't think of a suitable response. "Expedition leaders don't get lives? You're just like Sam and Jack. Neither one of you is willing to admit you've already crossed the boundary!"

"Hey, don't look at me!" Even as he said it, John knew the anger he was starting to feel wasn't really directed at Daniel. "She just thinks of me as a friend anyway. They all call me Kirk," he added, a little sulkily.

"Ah. For me it was 'girl on every planet.' And I was even married at the time. I really need to get Jack back for that one," Daniel grumbled. "And then they always gave me the nice, embarrassing 'alien diseases' lectures."

"Yes!" John couldn't help feeling thrilled at finding someone who understood. "And okay, maybe it's a little bit your fault, but seriously, she was throwing herself at you..."

Daniel cleared his throat. "Um, if you say so..."

John felt his cheeks heat up. "So maybe there's a little bit of truth to the name-calling. Not that I'm saying it's entirely my fault or anything."

"Right." Daniel's lips twitched. "It's not your fault everyone finds you so irresistible."

"Exactly—oh, forget it," John said, rolling his eyes as Daniel started laughing.

At that exact moment, Ronon swung his club-racket and whacked McKay at the base of his skull. McKay immediately went down, his "ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" ringing throughout the yard.

"I knew this game was dangerous!" Daniel said gleefully.

They went to join everyone else gathered around McKay. "Rodney! Rodney!" Carson called, leaning over him.

"Wha'? Where am I? Colonel Carter?" the astrophysicist asked dreamily. O'Neill almost growled at the man.

Carson rolled his eyes. "Rodney. You didn't even lose consciousness."

McKay shrugged. "Can't blame a guy for trying. Either way, I'm done with badminton."

"Thank goodness," John heard Elizabeth mutter. When he turned to look at her questioningly (and how had he somehow managed to stand right next to her without his knowing?), she added under her breath, "we might have more of a chance now."

John stifled his laughter. "Hey, how 'bout we eat?" he suggested instead.

McKay's eyes lit up. "Food!"

"I think that's a second for the motion. Let's go," O'Neill ordered, strategically placing himself between Sam and McKay.

"Sorry I made you sit that one out," Elizabeth apologized as she and John headed for the house.

John shrugged, painfully aware of Daniel's eyes boring into him. "You were probably right. Besides, how could I argue with someone who can send me to a black hole planet without my knowledge? Or worse, send me to a black hole planet with only McKay for company?"

She laughed, and John tried to rationalize his intense happiness at hearing it. It had nothing to do with him causing it, he told himself. It was because she was usually so stressed out, and laughing was good. Yeah, that was it.

"Come on, let's go eat," Elizabeth said, leading the way.

"Hey, save me a seat?" he asked, waiting for her to nod and smile before he turned to find Daniel.

"You're not going to tell her, are you?" Daniel asked resignedly.

"Not yet," John admitted.

"Just don't wait until you're a general at the Pentagon," Daniel advised. "She might end up marrying her Pete."

John watched him walk towards the food, where O'Neill was filling a plate for Sam, who was arguing with McKay about wormhole something-or-other. As he set her plate down in front of her, O'Neill shared a brief look with Sam. She smiled adoringly at him before continuing her argument.

"John, the food's getting cold!" Elizabeth was staring at him with some impatience, like she couldn't begin eating until he got there. He gave her a cheeky grin and jogged over.

Daniel smiled as he saw Elizabeth carefully remove her jacket from the spot next to her. They would wise up eventually.

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A/N: I know a lot of you were hoping for John and Sam, but for some reason I couldn't leave the idea of Daniel and John alone. I hope you still enjoyed it, and I haven't completely given up the idea of making this a multi-chapter story (for example, part of me wants to write a McKay/Vala conversation...)


	3. McKay & Vala

A/N: Here's chapter 3; it's a little longer than the others (and it also took a lot longer than I would have liked to be finished), but I hope you like it anyway!

Oh, and this takes place before "Sunday," just because I'm in denial.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Stargate or its characters. Not that I really expect anyone to sue me over this, but just in case…

Enjoy!

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"—And it would really be beneficial to run some additional simulations to determine power consumption due to the augmentation of the _Odyssey_'s weapon systems, to see if there's a more equitable distribution—"

"No, Rodney," interrupted Elizabeth before General Landry could say anything. "The ZPM stays with the _Odyssey_ to fight the Ori."

"But-but-but-but, just hear me out!" McKay demanded, gesturing to his laptop. "I have all the calculations right here and—"

"I said no, Rodney," repeated Elizabeth firmly, standing to emphasize her point. As McKay grumbled and huffily snapped his laptop shut, the Atlantis expedition leader turned to her SGC counterpart and smiled. "Well, I think that's all then, General. With your permission?" She gestured to the briefing room exit.

Landry too stood, a signal for the other personnel to rise as well. "By all means. Thanks for the report from the Pegasus galaxy, Doctor." As they started to gather their briefing materials, Landry halted them for a moment. "So, whose turn is it tonight?"

"Teal'c's, but we're having it over at my place since his apartment might be a little small for all of us," replied Sam. "And since it's Colonel Sheppard's turn to pick, we figured we couldn't count on a nice quiet game of cards."

"Ooooh, we can choose poker?" Vala's eyes lit up as the other members of SG-1 winced.

"OK, it's not her turn for a loooong time," Mitchell said.

"Well, how come it's flyboy Kirk's turn?" McKay asked irritably. "We all know he was the mastermind behind that first football game. Nooo, we can't play _regular_ football, it has to be the barbaric American tackle version! I mean, who gets one personal item and chooses _football_?!"

"Little high-strung, that one," commented Vala to Daniel, who merely rolled his eyes.

Ronon snorted, still seated from the briefing with one leg resting on the table. "He's just mad 'cause his random number generator thing told him he didn't get to pick 'til last."

McKay shot the Satedan a highly affronted look. "Oh, please. Like I would ever be that petty." Before anyone could pounce on that statement, he added, "And I'm still not convinced one of you didn't tamper with that program!"

"Rodney, relax," Sheppard drawled, stopping to take a swig of his now-old coffee. "Technically Mitchell and I came up with the football idea together, so if it'll make you feel any better, I'll skip my turn and share Mitchell's when it comes around again."

"Really?" McKay's face brightened immediately. "No horribly painful, humiliating sports for another few weeks? You would seriously do that?"

"Yes, you would seriously do that?" echoed Elizabeth in disbelief, raising an eyebrow at John.

The colonel simply inclined his head graciously. "In the interest of fairness and team harmony, of course I would."

This did not seem to reassure either Elizabeth or Teyla, who were both staring at him suspiciously. He merely smiled innocently and drank more lukewarm coffee.

Landry cleared his throat and all eyes flashed to him. "Well, in that case, I'll see you all at Colonel Carter's place at 1500 hours. I take it General O'Neill will be joining us there?"

"Yes sir," Sam responded, "And he sends his regrets that he couldn't attend the briefing as well. Apparently the sub-committee meeting was simply too fascinating to leave."

Landry smiled slightly. "I'm sure Jack was thrilled with his assignment. 1500, everyone. Dismissed."

Everyone nodded to him and slowly filed out of the briefing room, Elizabeth and Teyla shooting yet

another suspicious glance at each other when John left whistling.

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"No," McKay repeated for the hundreth time, swatting Sheppard's hand away from the computer keyboard on which the colonel had been absently typing "m-c-k-a-y i-s a n-e-r-d" over and over using just his pointer finger.

"Aw, come on, McKay." John obligingly stopped fiddling with the computer and went over to a more expensive-looking piece of equipment instead.

McKay sighed exasperatedly before hopping off his stool and coming to take the expensive-looking thing out of John's hands. "I said no! I'm doing very important work here!"

John sauntered over to look at the computer screen where the scientist was working so intently, which McKay hastily tried to hide. "'Power distribution at 51...' McKay! Those are the simulations Elizabeth told you not to run!"

"No!" McKay denied defensively, lifting his chin and not quite looking at Sheppard as he said the next part in a rush. "She never specifically said I couldn't run them, she just didn't let me tell General Landry about them."

"Oh, well, in that case," said Sheppard sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

They stared each other down for a moment before finally McKay sighed. "Look, just please don't tell Elizabeth, all right? She'll take this completely the wrong way."

"And what way might that be?" Sheppard mused, pretending to think. "That you're, oh I don't know, trying to get another one of those ZPMs?"

McKay huffed slightly. "Well, so what if I am? These power distribution tests clearly indicate—"

Sheppard held up a hand to stop him. "Make you a deal. I won't tell Elizabeth…if you come with me."

McKay rolled his eyes. "No way. I told you before, I'm busy."

"Yeah, doing stuff you aren't supposed to be doing!"

"That doesn't mean it's not important!"

"That doesn't mean you're supposed to be doing it!"

"That doesn't mean it shouldn't be done!"

"Fine. You leave me no choice." Sheppard smiled evilly before going over to the phone on the wall of the lab. "Hi, could you connect me to Elizabeth Weir, please?"

McKay narrowed his eyes at the colonel. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would." Sheppard turned his smile toward the phone, unconsciously pulling one of his trademark, disarming flyboy grins even though the person on the other end of the line couldn't see him. "Hey, Elizabeth? I just called to tell you I'm down in the lab with Rodney and he—"

"Fine! I'll do it!" McKay finally shouted, looking panicked.

"—just wanted to let you know how much he's looking forward to that barbeque this afternoon! Yep, we'll see you there! Bye." Sheppard hung up the phone, turning back to McKay with an expression that promised horror. "All right, McKay. Time to go."

McKay groaned to himself a little before reluctantly shutting down the simulations in progress.

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"I hate you."

"Yes, Rodney, I know," replied Sheppard patiently, carefully guiding the rental truck into Colonel Carter's driveway.

"I _really_ hate you."

"Yes, Rodney, I got it." Sheppard rolled his eyes as he parked and turned off the engine.

"There is no one in the universe I hate more at this precise moment than you." McKay cast a sidelong glance at Sheppard to see if this finally elicited an apology, but he remained infuriatingly stubborn.

"OK, Rodney, it's time to get out now." To emphasize his point, John opened the door and climbed out of the truck. Rodney hesitated briefly as if to say he wasn't coming as a sign of protest, but eventually reached out and grabbed the door handle.

They made their way to the front door together, Rodney listing all the names of people he hated less than Sheppard and Sheppard trying his best to ignore it.

"—Not even Kolya, not even Kavanaugh, not even that Wraith queen that tried to kill us, not even that other Wraith queen that tried to kill us, not even that _other_ Wraith queen—oh, hi Elizabeth," McKay suddenly added, their leader's appearance from behind the door mercifully cutting his tirade short. Well, shorter, thought John ruefully.

"Hi Rodney, John," she replied, nodding to each of them in turn. "What was that I heard about the Wraith?"

"Oh, nothing," answered John easily, "you know how Rodney gets when he hasn't had his coffee."

McKay opened his mouth to find some snarky reply before he realized the implications of Sheppard's comment. "Coffee? You guys have coffee?"

Elizabeth had barely begun to nod when McKay bounded (there was really no other word for it, John decided) past her in search of the kitchen. She stepped back to allow John to enter too before closing the door behind him and gesturing to the backyard where the others were gathered.

"Yo, Sheppard!" O'Neill was already reclining with a beer in hand. "Took ya long enough!"

"Flyboy here decided to go play with his Air Force buddies, and since he didn't want to go alone, he just _had _to drag his poor, unsuspecting scientist along," answered McKay for John, coming up from behind them with coffee in hand, ignoring the incredulous looks from team members when they saw his choice of beverage at 3:00 in the afternoon. "Which is why he's worse than that Wraith queen that tried to kill us."

"Ah," said Elizabeth at the same time Ronon asked, "Which one?"

"You joined that pick-up volleyball game?" Mitchell raised his eyebrows. "More importantly, _McKay_ joined that pick-up volleyball game?"

"Yes," replied McKay testily, "and for your information I wasn't terrible."

The others quickly looked to John to refute this, but John just shrugged. "It's true. He wasn't bad."

"See? It's almost a shame I've vowed never to play the evil sport again." McKay looked around. "So, what're we playing today?"

"It's Elizabeth's turn, if we skip Sheppard," Jack replied, "and she picked…volleyball."

McKay turned to look at Elizabeth in shock, but she merely shrugged and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Rodney. Look, we can switch if you want…"

"Ohhhh, no. No, no, no, no, no. I see what you did, Sheppard," McKay whirled on the pilot, finger wagging accusingly, but Sheppard's only reaction was a slight shrug and an innocent "who, me?" expression. "You knew what Elizabeth was going to pick! You did this on purpose! Well, fine. I'm not going to play. So there."

"Aw, come on, McKay. Don't be a bad sport," said Sheppard, grinning at his own pun.

"No." McKay put down his coffee and resolutely folded his arms.

"Rodney, you're not just going to sit there and sulk all afternoon, are ye?" Carson stared at his friend in disbelief.

"Maybe," McKay sniffed. Everyone else looked at each other for a moment and shrugged slightly.

"His loss," said Mitchell, grabbing a volleyball and heading over to where they'd set up the net earlier. "C'mon, everybody!"

"And I'll have you know I would've been a great asset to either team!" McKay called after them, taking the reclining chair O'Neill had just vacated and muttering to himself. "Stupid Air Force jocks who think it's fun to tease the geeks. We'll see who's laughing next time he needs another technological miracle to break him out of jail…"

Apparently the rules had already been explained to the resident aliens of the group, because they started the game quickly. However, after the third time Daniel had to explain to Vala that she wasn't allowed to catch the ball and throw it back over the net at the opposing team, it became clear the game was making much less sense than they'd obviously assumed.

"But _why_, Daniel?" Vala asked petulantly. "They're launching balls at my head and I'm not allowed to defend myself? On some planets that's considered torture, you know."

"It's not a question of defense," Daniel responded patiently, "it's just the rules of the game!"

"Well, it's not a very nice rule. On the whole, come to think of it, you Earthlings don't come up with nice games. You're a rather violent race, aren't you?" The question must have been rhetorical, because Vala continued without pausing for breath. "I mean, you're awfully proud of that game where you tackle people over a weirdly-shaped ball and you created an entire sport around hitting birds with rackets for your own amusement. And now a sport where people aim powerfully-hit shots at other people's heads and expect them not to fight back!"

"Vala, it's just a game. Games have rules. One of these is that you can't catch the ball!" Apparently Jackson didn't have infinite patience either, mused McKay, watching the exchange with a smirk. "Look, let's just re-serve that one and you can try again."

Vala fixed him with a curious look. "You know, I don't think I like this game much. I think I'll just sit this one out with Chuckles over there," she announced, gesturing to McKay, who choked on the gulp of coffee he'd just taken. She marched across the yard to take the chair next to McKay's.

Daniel and the others gazed after her for a moment before turning back to the game and trying to decide how to make the teams even now that one of the SGC personnel had left. When they decided to make an official referee position again, the game continued.

The next ten minutes or so passed uneventfully, although McKay kept sneaking glances over to Vala as if expecting her to start growing an extra head. She kept her attention firmly on the game, however, and when she finally did speak, it was without turning her head.

"My, that Colonel Sheppard certainly looks dashing, doesn't he?" she remarked as the current object of her attention jogged over to retrieve the ball after Daniel hit it out-of-bounds.

"Oh, no, not you too," groaned McKay. "Look, there are a couple things you should know about Lt. Colonel Kirk over there before you—"

"Too bad he's taken," continued Vala matter-of-factly as if McKay had never spoken.

"—for one thing, he's seen his share of action—what?" asked McKay in disbelief, as her statement finally caught up to him.

"Oh, you don't have to hide it from me. You'd know all about it, wouldn't you? Being right in the thick of it and all." Vala was still watching the game, seemingly oblivious to the shock on McKay's face.

"Wha—why would I know anything about Sheppard and his love life?" demanded McKay, feeling mildly uncomfortable with this line of questioning.

"Well, you're teammates. Friends. _Close_ friends," Vala emphasized, her eyes still glued to the game.

McKay's eyes widened even further. "We're not like that! We're friends, that's all! Teammates, really! A close bond formed by numerous near-death experiences! And sure, I saved his life a few times, but that doesn't mean anything, I'd've done the same for lots of people! Well, some people, anyway. Definitely a few."

Vala finally turned to look at him, laughing. "You know, I am sorely tempted to take that farther, because you seem awfully nervous for someone who only likes him as a friend. Can't say I blame you of course." She licked her lips, causing McKay to wrinkle his nose in disgust.

"Ewww. Don't even go there. Besides, I'm not gay, no matter what you or apparently anyone else on the planet thinks." McKay turned back to watch the volleyball game, where Carson and Mitchell were arguing over the exact definition of "in bounds."

"Oh, relax," said Vala dismissively. "You just need to learn to lighten up. Besides, your homosexuality notwithstanding, I wasn't even talking about you."

"Really?" asked McKay, interested enough to miss her less-than-encouraging comment on his sexual preference. "Who?"

"You mean you honestly don't know?" Vala asked, wide-eyed. She clapped her hands. "Oooh, goody!"

"Of course I know," McKay snapped. "I just…didn't know you knew!" He hurriedly tried to wrack his brain to remember anything Sheppard might have said about seeing someone, and it must have shown because Vala only giggled again.

"This is so much fun! And you _work_ with them!" Vala clapped her hands again, abruptly sitting sideways in her chair to face him, crossing her legs but still somehow managing to bounce back and forth.

"'Them'?" McKay repeated, confused. "No, no, no, no, no, I'd know if Sheppard was seeing someone on Atlantis."

"So you're saying you _don't_ know, then?" Vala's face lit up even further, if that was possible.

McKay immediately started to deny it, but realizing he was caught, he settled for demanding, "Well, who is it?"

"I suppose it makes sense they wouldn't tell you," Vala mused to herself, seemingly oblivious to McKay's annoyance. "If they were trying to hide it from their team members. I can't imagine such a relationship would be smiled on by those IOA fellows, especially given their backgrounds."

McKay was about to demand an explanation yet again when he caught Vala's eyes sliding to the volleyball game, where Sheppard was going over one of the rules with Teyla. Comprehension dawned. "Ohhh, no, Sheppard isn't involved with _her_. He does respect some boundaries, and current city gossip has her connected to Ronon."

Vala paused a moment to regard the game thoughtfully, her head cocked to one side. "Really? That must be quite the match-up. Not that there aren't some definite advantages to the strong, silent type," she added. "In fact most men are much better seen and not heard. Still, she struck me as more the talkative type. You know, being a leader-diplomat and all." Vala wrinkled her nose. "Personally, I prefer the direct approach."

"The 'direct' approach?" questioned McKay.

Vala shrugged. "Steal it. Or shoot it. Depending on the situation, of course." She reached behind her to pick up a bag of chips and pop a couple in her mouth.

"Now you sound like Ronon," muttered McKay. "If Teyla ever gets bored with him, I'll be sure to let you know."

"He's involved with Teyla as well?" Vala raised her eyebrows. "My, my. He certainly didn't waste any time, now did he? I mean, I've heard of animal magnetism, but—"

"What do you mean, 'as well'?" demanded McKay. "He's seeing someone else? I could totally win that betting pool! Who is it?"

"What _are_ you on about? The ever-surprising Doctor Weir, of course," Vala said, giving McKay a look that clearly implied she thought he was being a tad slow for a self-proclaimed genius.

McKay spit out his coffee. "_Elizabeth's_ seeing R-Ronon?!" he spluttered loudly, drawing startled looks from the volleyball players and causing Sheppard to miss an easy volley.

"You OK, McKay?" asked O'Neill without much enthusiasm.

McKay gestured wildly, unable to answer, so Vala stepped in. "He's fine, General," she replied cheerfully. She took McKay's arm and smiled charmingly. "We were just discussing relationships!"

McKay's eyes widened even further, and he heard Daniel groan and say to Elizabeth, "I'm going to apologize in advance for the therapy McKay is going to need."

They returned to their game while McKay caught his breath. When it looked like he was no longer in any immediate danger of dying, Vala said, "I don't see why you're so surprised. You're the one who told me in the first place."

"I did not!" said McKay, affronted. "I told you Ronon was interested in Teyla!"

"Oh, so it's Ronon with Teyla and Sheppard with Weir then!" concluded Vala triumphantly.

"Yes! No! What?" asked McKay, lost. "No, Ronon and Teyla, maybe. Sheppard and Elizabeth, no. No way."

"Are you sure?" McKay nodded. "Are you _positive_?" McKay nodded again. "Are you _absolutely_ positive?"

"Yes! I think I would be able to tell!" McKay rolled his eyes.

"Well, you aren't exactly Mr. Observant, are you?" pointed out Vala. "You never did figure out Sheppard fixed your random number thingy."

"He did WHAT?" asked McKay furiously, turning to glare at Sheppard, who was serving the ball obliviously. "I knew it! I knew he did something!"

"Well, I expect you should have," replied Vala mildly, "considering he did it right in front of you after asking you how to do it."

"He did not," McKay snapped. "I would have noticed _that_! All he did was ask about the configuration of the function—oh."

"Bingo, Mr. Observant!" Vala clapped her hands once more before digging into the potato chip bag again.

They sat in silence watching the game for a few minutes before McKay finally asked, "So you really think they're …seeing each other?"

"Oh, mmm, most definitely," Vala said through a mouthful of chips.

A few more moments passed.

"Really?"

"Yep."

A few more moments passed.

"You're sure?"

"Of course I am."

A few more moments passed.

"_Really?_"

"Yes!" Vala finally lost patience, rolling her eyes and stamping her foot.

"I-I-I only ask," continued McKay as if she hadn't spoken, "because I don't think they could have hidden it from all of us and especially _me_ for all these years, and there's regulations and—"

"Oh, never mind then," Vala interrupted off-handedly, putting down the chips and standing up.

"—And they'd never be able—whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you mean, 'never mind'? Where are you going?" demanded McKay.

"I'm going to rejoin the game, silly," she explained, patting his head.

McKay unconsciously reached up to run his fingers through his hair in a move a la Sheppard. "But why the 'never mind,'? I thought you said they were together for sure!"

Vala looked affronted. "Well of course they are. Would I lie to you? Well, about this, anyway?"

McKay pretended to consider it. "Hmm, let me think about this. How about 'yes'?"

"True. But I'm telling the truth this time. Honest. Although while we're being honest, I'd honestly say that no matter what." Vala smiled charmingly before patting McKay's head once more. "Thank you for the invaluable information, Dr. McKay. One does like to be proven correct, doesn't one? Not that there was really any question, of course."

McKay continued to look confused, so Vala finally bent to whisper conspiratorially, "They're simply just the Pegasus rerun of Sam and General O'Neill! Tragic, really. It would make a great plot for one of your Earth television shows, actually. One of those soap concertos or whatsits." Vala waved her hand absently.

"Soap operas," corrected McKay automatically.

"Whatever. You know, I do believe I'll suggest it to Martin Lloyd. The man seemed a tad unimaginative, to be perfectly honest. No sense of good drama. There's room in every story for a couple heart-wrenching romances, I always say! And they could draw it out over a few seasons too…oooh, I'm a genius!" said Vala to herself, rubbing her hands together gleefully.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," muttered Daniel warily, coming up behind her, "but how are you a genius now?"

"Oh, nothing, Daniel dear," replied Vala brightly, patting his arm. "Is your game over already? I was just coming to try again!"

Daniel winced. "Maybe after dinner."

Cam grinned widely at her. "He's just sore. Literally. Volleyball isn't Danny's sport, apparently."

"Poor Space Monkey," remarked O'Neill without sympathy. "Merlin's abilities didn't include athletics, huh?"

This only caused Daniel to glare harder, although whether it was at Jack's use of the "space monkey" nickname or the jibe at his lack of athleticism was not clear. However, the general's comment suddenly reminded McKay of something.

"Wait, what's the deal with O'Neill and Sam?"

O'Neill's eyes widened while Sam turned to glare at Vala accusingly, but Vala merely shrugged innocently. "I certainly don't know what he's talking about. Those crazy scientists, you know. Always coming up with wacky theories. All on their own," she added hastily. "So, shall we eat?"

When McKay opened his mouth to comment further, Elizabeth and John cut him off simultaneously with a sharp, "Drop it, Rodney."

He huffed, narrowing his eyes at the pair. "You know, I think Vala was right about you two." With that, he marched past them to join in the food preparation.

Elizabeth and John shared a quizzical look. "What do you think they talked about?" asked John.

When Elizabeth only shrugged amusedly in response, John turned to run after McKay. "Hey, McKay, what'd she say? Hey, McKay, quit ignoring me! McKay, Zelenka is twice the scientist you'll ever be! Hey, McKay! At least save me a burger!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A/N: One last comment: I'm trying to decide if a) I should just leave it here, b) I should keep ignoring "Sunday" and "Lifeline" and write more, or c) I should write one last chapter dealing with the two episodes and end it there. Any suggestions would be appreciated; thanks!


	4. Ronon & Teal'c

A/N: So...wow. It's been nearly six years since I last wrote anything here, hasn't it? And five years since I last wrote anything for Stargate period. I hoped maybe I was doing the math wrong, because I couldn't believe I'd written this six whole years ago, but the "Updated:" date tells me (sure enough, stop lying to myself) it's been six years.

I never really intended to update this again, to be perfectly honest, but I was cleaning out some computer files and found I'd started writing this last chapter and never finished/posted it. So I figured, what the hey? I think the six-year break probably shows when comparing this to the first three chapters, but on the other hand, six years is apparently the time you need to get over the horrible Sparky-less betrayal that was the end of SGA!

I ignored "Sunday" in writing this, and I ignored "Lifeline", and I ignored "Adrift", and basically this is a happy AU where no one is (spoiler alert!) floating aimlessly in space for all eternity. Denial is not just a river Ra once controlled, you know.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Stargate or its characters, and I doubt even another six years will change that. Although since MGM isn't using them anymore, maybe we could make a deal...

I hope you enjoy the conclusion, everyone!

* * *

Ronon watched McKay's presentation with his usual lack of interest. He'd already asked the relevant questions: (1) is this a weapon ("No"), and (2) could this potentially be used as a weapon ("No!"), and that was all he needed to know. Ronon couldn't have repeated the topic of the presentation if a Wraith queen had been breathing down his neck, but that wasn't unusual. If he paid attention to everything McKay tried to tell him, he'd be worse off than Zelenka.

He wasn't the only one who wasn't paying attention, though. Sheppard's head had started lolling about five minutes ago, after Weir had confiscated the pen he'd been tapping impatiently on the desk.

"What do you think, Sheppard?" Ronon interrupted suddenly, just to watch the carnage.

Sheppard's head snapped up. "Yes, of course," he said quickly, clearly with no idea what Rodney had been going on about this time. Ronon figured it probably didn't look good in front of two generals (not to mention Weir) to not be paying attention.

…From the looks he was getting, however, he was going to get caught anyway. Ronon smirked.

"Now that's an attitude I can admire!" declared Vala, turning to poke Jackson next to her. "I'd much rather go work for Johnny over there. How long would I have to wait for a transfer to go through, do you think?"

"You know, I think the President still owes me for saving the planet a couple of times," remarked Jackson off-handedly. "Two, three hours tops."

Vala pouted briefly, probably surprised that Daniel was playing along rather than being his usual stick-in-the-mud (an appropriate if confusing phrase Ronon had liberated from Sheppard's vocabulary) self. Then she brightened. "Well, if the rest of your military personnel are even half as cute as Lieutenant Colonel Yummy here, I can't say the scenery wouldn't be a vast improvement. Oooh, is that Major Lorne still around? He had the cutest little— "

"Ahem." Landry cleared his throat pointedly.

"Oh, of course, so sorry, General," Vala added instantly, without sounding particularly contrite. "I certainly didn't mean to imply anything about the men of the SGC in general, General! It's just, well, you see what I've got to work with…" Vala gestured to the rest of her team, all of whom looked so comically offended that Ronon couldn't contain a snort of amusement.

Carter and Weir had both laughed too, but Ronon was the one who got the looks of surprise. He merely shrugged. "I like her."

"_Ahem_," Landry tried again, as Vala smiled coyly and opened her mouth to respond. This time the room fell silent as intended. "That's better. If we could continue with the actual briefing part of this briefing?"

"Of course!" Vala waved her hand regally as if to indicate the rest of the group could now proceed. Someone had mentioned she'd once been some kind of queen. Ronon could see it.

"So, Colonel Sheppard," began O'Neill, ignoring Sheppard's cringe at his teasing tone, "you agree with McKay, do you?"

Sheppard wasted no time backtracking, correctly assuming any idea Vala approved of was not one to go on record favoring. "No, sir, I was…ah…just being sarcastic. Sorry, sir."

O'Neill opened his mouth to keep going, but McKay unwittingly saved Sheppard's ass. "Yes, obviously," the scientist said with a derisive snort. "Since you have absolutely _no clue_ what I do, you just go and make fun of it, no matter how many times I end up saving you from certain death with my massive intellect!"

"I'm sorry," said Sheppard, rolling his eyes. He paused but couldn't resist adding, "…Meredith."

McKay's eyes widened as he began to sputter incoherently and make his usual agitated, out-of-control gestures. Ronon almost rolled his eyes too. "Wha—I never—no clue what—you're just—I can't—you're such a,a,a—oh, forget it, Sheppard," he finally snapped, dropping heavily back into his chair and sulking.

Landry sighed, this time opting for a more direct approach than his previous (largely ignored) attempts. "Everyone!"

They all jumped a little, but it gave the general time to continue. "I think we can all agree this briefing is essentially over, since it appears to have degenerated into pointless bickering." He shot a significant glance over at McKay and Sheppard. "So I officially declare this status report delivered, and you are all officially dismissed."

"Finally!" Vala announced with an air of long-exhausted patience. "Um, not that I didn't find your report absolutely _fascinating_, Meredith," she added charmingly, causing McKay to fire a glare at Sheppard.

Vala caught the glare. "Honestly!" she exclaimed. "I don't see what you've got to complain about, really. You call him 'Kirk,' and that has to be _supremely_ more demeaning."

It was Sheppard's turn to glare and growl, "McKay!"

McKay immediately went on the defensive. "Well, if you didn't act like him, maybe I wouldn't call you that, hmm? Besides, she's an alien; it wasn't like she was actually going to know what it meant!"

"Ex-_cuse_ you?" Vala asked, affronted. "I don't know how much intelligence you think your Earth society really takes, but I can assure you—"

"So!" interrupted O'Neill loudly, effectively stopping the arguments before they could begin. Ronon found himself disappointed. He'd been ready to agree with Vala. "Jeopardy!" had been painfully misnamed. "What're we all up to tonight? Hank, I believe it's your turn?"

Landry grinned. "Yep, BBQ at my place at eighteen hundred hours, then we're hitting the lanes for some good old-fashioned bowling."

"Bowling, sir?" Mitchell asked, quirking an eyebrow like Ronon had seen the big alien, Teal'c, do a couple times. "But I thought it was Vala's turn. Why aren't we all losing our pants at poker?"

"Not that that takes much for some people, huh, Cam?" snickered Carter, smiling as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Vala and Teyla switched, remember?" Sheppard turned to Teyla. "No traditional Athosian sport you wanted to share?"

Teyla nodded thoughtfully. "Doctor Weir and I discovered your 'bowling' is actually quite similar to a game our warriors play at our end-of-harvest celebration: 'har-kaan.' I felt that perhaps bowling would be a fair compromise between our two cultures." She gave Sheppard a look that clearly said she felt the games had been biased against the alien team members thus far. Again, Ronon had to agree. At least he'd actually _played_ har-kaan before, even if it wasn't among his favorite ways to spend a harvest celebration.

Sheppard cleared his throat nervously, recognizing the implication. "Um, a very wise and fair decision."

"Indeed," added Teal'c with his one-eyebrow raise. Sheppard gulped again.

"Okay," said O'Neill, clapping his hands. "Bowling it is! See ya in a few hours, Hank!"

As they waited to begin filing out of the briefing room, Vala leaned over and tapped Mitchell on the shoulder.

"You Earth people created an entire sport around bowls?"

* * *

"No, right, right, right, right!" shrieked McKay three hours later as Sheppard zoomed through an intersection without even slowing.

"Relax, McKay," Sheppard managed to get out through clenched teeth. "I know what I'm doing."

Behind him, Ronon let out a suspicious snort. Sheppard glanced back accusingly, but Ronon didn't feel the need to apologize.

"Oh yes, because it's not like I have a _map_ or anything!" McKay snapped at him. "Remember the last time you 'knew exactly what you were doing,' Sheppard? We ended up trampling some sacred flowerbeds and getting thrown in prison!"

"That wouldn't have happened if _someone_ hadn't decided they 'didn't really mean' to put a fence around it!" Sheppard snapped back, swerving to pass a car in front of him with slightly more violence than seemed to be required. Beside Ronon, Teyla's knuckles were white on the armrest.

"Um, John?" questioned Weir tentatively. She was watching the number gauge in front of Sheppard with increasing uneasiness. Ronon didn't know exactly what the numbers meant, but Weir didn't seem to think it was good. "The speedometer says you're going sixty, and this road can't possibly be zoned for more than forty-five."

Sheppard ignored her. Weir sat back and muttered to Ronon and Teyla, "I'm no longer accepting ignorance of the laws off-world as a valid excuse for the two of them; they clearly observe other planets' laws just as closely as they do Earth's. You officially have my permission to shoot them from now on."

Ronon smiled predatorily.

"Besides," continued Sheppard over Weir's instruction, "we made it back to the village just like I said we would, didn't we?"

"I don't remember you predicting anything about us coming back in straitjackets!" McKay returned without missing a beat. "You're just lucky the magistrate thought you were cute—"

As the two continued to bicker in the front of the rented SUV, Weir turned again to Teyla and Ronon. "Wasn't the magistrate…male?"

Ronon's smile grew into a wide grin. "Yep."

His grin quickly vanished as Sheppard jerked the wheel, causing the vehicle to lurch to the side of the road. As the car shuddered to a stop, Sheppard jammed a lever forward and pointed across McKay to the door. "Out."

"Wha-what?" asked McKay indignantly, his jaw dropping. "Oh, I don't think so!"

"Out," Sheppard repeated with more force. "You're switching with Elizabeth."

Weir tried to hide her smile as McKay sat there for a few moments, doing a very accurate fish impression. Finally he gave in, opening the door and muttering under his breath about pig-headed military commanders. Weir quickly unbuckled her seatbelt in order to climb into the front, and Teyla tried to hold back her sigh as McKay dropped heavily into the middle seat in front of her. Ronon gave her a sympathetic look as she shut her eyes firmly.

"So, I assume you'd like to know how far off-course you've taken us?" Weir asked, calmly reaching for a map.

Sheppard smiled sheepishly, jamming that lever thing again but much more calmly than before. "If you wouldn't mind. These sorts of things never happen in a puddle jumper, you know."

Weir smiled. "They also don't happen if you listen to your navigator."

"Well, now that I've upgraded my navigator to the newer, prettier model, I don't see that being a problem," Sheppard replied with a wink.

Ronon watched as Weir tried to hide the effect Sheppard's words had on her. She quickly cleared her throat and glanced down at the directions in front of her before Sheppard could notice her face flushing. But Ronon, his view unobstructed by McKay, could see everything.

Weir looked over the directions, blinked, and looked again. "You do know these are the directions to the Peterson Air and Space Museum, don't you?"

There was a pause.

"McKay…" John growled.

"What?" asked McKay defensively. "You know MapQuest. It makes mistakes sometimes."

Weir turned around in her seat. "Rodney, what happened to the instructions General Landry gave us?"

"Well, I certainly don't…" McKay trailed off as Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, all right," he grumbled, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a sheet of paper. "But you have to admit it'd be fun to laugh at Peterson's so-called 'aviation advancements.' Did you know they still have experts who claim—"

He continued to jabber on, but Weir merely sighed and grabbed the paper out of his hand.

She quickly compared the handwritten notes to a map. "It looks like we're only a few miles off, if I'm reading this right," she reported. "You missed the right onto Fountain, correct?"

"'Missed' is up for debate, I'd say," Sheppard grumbled. "I stayed straight and didn't turn, yes, but 'missed'? No. Not now that I know _where McKay was leading us_."

"Hey, you're the one who lived here when the Ancients took back Atlantis!" McKay snapped. "I was stuck in that godawful desert with its godawful scientists who were clearly lying when they wrote 'PhD' on their résumés. If anyone should know his way around Colorado Springs—"

"I expected it to be the guy with the directions!" Sheppard shouted back. Ronon was surprised when Weir didn't immediately jump in to stop the yelling. He studied her as carefully as he could from the back. Her jaw was set, and unless he was wrong, she was staring blankly at the map in front of her. Not for the first time, Ronon cursed McKay. No one ever talked about it directly, but Ronon knew the forced return to Earth had been tough on Weir. Almost everyone avoided mentioning it around her. Why couldn't McKay keep his mouth shut once in awhile?

Teyla too had noticed the change in Weir, which didn't surprise Ronon. By the time he noticed something, Teyla always seemed to be already working to fix it. Probably an effect of all that meditation.

So he also wasn't surprised when Teyla stepped into the argument in Sheppard's place, immediately distracting McKay before he could notice Weir too. Teyla was good like that.

Ronon casually turned his attention back to the front, hoping Sheppard wouldn't see he was watching them.

Sheppard had caught Weir's attitude change too, probably even before Teyla had. Again, Ronon found he wasn't surprised. Most of the time, Sheppard seemed to have six senses: taste, touch, sight, smell, hearing, and Weir.

Sheppard pitched his voice softly, and Ronon couldn't hear what he'd said. Whatever it was, Weir snapped back to the present, smiling apologetically. They talked quietly for a few minutes, and when Weir laughed, Ronon was satisfied she was okay.

"You'll want to take a left up here on Platte," she told Sheppard, loudly enough for the rest of the car to hear it. "We should be only a few minutes away. At this rate, we'll even be early."

McKay perked up. "Well, if we're going to be early, we clearly have time; the Peterson Air and Space Museum is only a couple miles east—"

"No!" chorused three voices in unison. Sheppard, always a man of action rather than words, again jerked the wheel violently, slamming the car to a stop by the side of the road once more.

"Out," he said to McKay, pointing at the door.

McKay did as ordered, hurriedly climbing over the seat. "See, Sheppard knows a good idea when he hears one. I'll just take my seat back, Elizabeth, and..."

McKay stepped out of the vehicle, and as soon as he did, Sheppard nodded at Ronon to shut the door behind him.

McKay frowned. "Wait, what's going on?"

Sheppard hit the lever and calmly took off down the road again.

"SHEPPARD!"

"John," Weir admonished, though her eyes twinkled. "You can't leave Rodney by the side of the road."

"Sure looks like I can," Sheppard answered cheerfully. "Now, who wants to listen to some Johnny Cash?"

* * *

Weir eventually convinced Sheppard to go back for McKay, but thanks to the detour, they arrived at General Landry's house a few minutes after eighteen hundred. The Atlantis team walked into the backyard to discover a buffet table set up by something that Ronon recognized as almost har-kaan. Har-kaan as interpreted by Earth people, who felt the need to make the kaans look like clubs and give the balls holes. Ronon scoffed.

So did Sheppard. "Lawn bowling?" he asked. "That's not real bowling. The pins aren't even in the right places. They're all...lined up. I thought we were hitting the lanes later."

"We will," explained Landry. "First we're playing this."

"Doctor Beckett arrived early to set up the...what did you call the kaans? Pins?" asked Teyla. "Yes, to set up the pins to match the har-kaan configuration. It symbolizes rows of plantings. We will begin by playing the traditional Athosian game, and then Doctor Weir has offered to teach us the Earth game here so we may learn first in private."

"But it just looks so...wussy," Sheppard said, eying the setup.

Ronon decided it was time to step in. "You got a problem with the way other cultures play bowling?" He crossed his arms over his chest, leveling his best Runner glare.

"Uh, no. 'Course not," Sheppard said, taking a couple steps back. "You know me. Always happy to be part of a good cultural exchange."

McKay snorted. "Is that what we're calling it these days, Kirk?"

"I told you to _stop calling me that_," warned Sheppard. McKay wisely made a beeline for the buffet table, where he took up a strategic position behind Weir. Sheppard chased after him anyway.

"You know, you could've saved us a lot of time if you'd just told Sheppard the lawn bowler thing was Weir's idea," Ronon told Teyla.

She cocked her head. "You believe that would have made a difference?"

Ronon rolled his eyes. "Before or after he made it the official sport of Atlantis?"

* * *

After everyone had gotten something to eat, O'Neill called them to form a group around the har-kaan field. "We're gathered here on this lovely evening to celebrate a rich and vibrant culture," he began. "Can anyone tell me what that is?"

"The Athosians," said Weir pointedly.

O'Neill blinked. "...Yes. The Athosians. Exactly. That's what I was going to say. And in the spirit of such celebration, I will now ask Teyla to teach us the traditional Athosian sport of hark...something."

"O'Neill was not speaking of the Athosians," rumbled a voice to Ronon's left, and he was surprised to discover Teal'c, the strong and silent warrior, was speaking to him. Ronon looked carefully around to make sure the...Jaffar? Was that right?...was really talking to him.

Teal'c seemed to be waiting for an answer, so Ronon decided to give one. "No?"

"No," agreed Teal'c gravely. "I do believe he was referring to the four hundredth episode of _The Simpsons_, which airs later this week."

It didn't sound familiar to Ronon. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No," said Teal'c with a long-suffering sigh. "O'Neill is holding a plate of doughnuts. It is most providential that Doctor Weir recognized the warning signs as well."

Speaking of Weir, Teyla had invited her up to thank her for helping plan the day's activity, and although Teyla was talking, Sheppard's attention was fixed firmly on Weir. Ronon resisted the urge to sigh. Sometimes Sheppard was one of the most brilliant commanders Ronon had ever known. Sometimes Sheppard was not.

Ronon felt Teal'c's eyes on him, and he scowled. He didn't like being watched. He faced front again before Teal'c could say anything.

Teyla was asking Weir to demonstrate proper har-kaan procedure; Weir did so, raising the ball over her head and letting it fly toward the pins.

Teyla beamed. "Excellent, Doctor Weir! All but one kaan!"

"KAAAAAAAAAN!" yelled Mitchell to the sky, falling to his knees and clenching his fists. The aliens of the group jumped.

"Is he...unwell?" asked Teyla hesitantly.

"Yes," said Carter, no hesitation at all. "But this is a reference to an Earth movie."

"_Star Trek II_," said Mitchell. "It's a classic. C'mon, it was just begging to be said."

Landry seemed to agree. "Pay up," he said to Jackson and Carter. "I told you Mitchell would break first."

O'Neill eyed them suspiciously. "Told you Mitchell would break before whom, exactly?"

Carter and Jackson both immediately looked to the sky, perhaps trying to find the kaan Mitchell had referenced.

Weir put a hand to her forehead and sighed. "Why don't we try playing a round or two?"

"Yes, a good idea," said Teyla, frowning at Mitchell. "Ronon, perhaps you would like to go first?"

Ronon shrugged; he hadn't heard the rules, but he'd played har-kaan with Teyla and her people before. He took the ball and swiftly hurled it down the field. He left one kaan standing, just as Weir had. He frowned. This never happened with real kaans. It was all these strange Earth kaans' fault.

"How about Sheppard goes next?" suggested Ronon, trying not to grin as he reset the kaans. He hadn't listened to the rules, but he hadn't needed to. Sheppard, though...and Sheppard deserved some payback for the last time they'd been on Earth. Ronon could swear his mouth was still smarting from Sheppard's habanero challenge.

Sheppard came forward, taking a ball in one hand and clearly not expecting much of a challenge. "Just throw it at the pins, right?"

"The kaans," said Teyla, sounding faintly annoyed. Ronon sympathized. _Just wait, Teyla_, he though.

Sheppard nodded absently. "Right, yeah, kaans. That's what I meant."

Teyla pursed her lips, but she didn't say anything as he judged his shot and let the ball fly. It landed right where he'd aimed it, but he didn't have the technique down. The ball hit one kaan, and that was it.

There was muffled laughter from around the group, and Ronon stepped forward.

He bowed to Teyla. "I wish to declare the right of Wraith-kaan."

"You wish to...what?" asked Teyla, bemused.

"Wraith-kaan. The ancient and honorable Athosian battle tradition," said Ronon formally and deliberately. "I wish to honor my ancestors who have fallen to the Wraith by challenging the pathetic warrior who stands here in their place."

Everyone was watching with renewed interest now.

"Uh, buddy..." started Sheppard. "I don't know what you're doing here, but 'challenging' sounds a little ominous, and 'pathetic' sounds a little insulting, so maybe we could talk about this?"

"It is an ancient tradition, one not invoked for centuries," Teyla said to Ronon, not acknowledging Sheppard. "You wish a fight to the death?"

Ronon's mouth dropped open just barely. She was good. "It is my right as the one whose memory has been disgraced by my har-kaan successor."

"Uh, 'to the death'?" asked Sheppard uneasily. "We don't do to the death, guys. Right, Elizabeth?"

Weir started to speak, but Ronon caught her eye and winked. He watched her bite her lip to keep from laughing, but she recovered beautifully. "John, we are respecting Athosian customs today. That means we respect _all_ of them."

"Not fighting to the death ones!"

"You made them follow the rules of football, didn't you? All the rules?"

"There is no fighting to the death in football!"

"There's still time to pick hockey when it's your turn again," said O'Neill, unconcerned. "Or boxing."

"I've told you time and again, John. You can't make up the rules as you go along," said Weir. "Maybe a fight to the death would be good for you."

"You can't be serious," Sheppard said in disbelief. "You don't like fights, and you don't like death, so I _know_ you can't like putting them together!"

She pinned him with a glare. "I also don't like bailing my military commander out of jail for trampling flowerbeds."

"Oh, is that what this is?" asked Sheppard, realizing. "I didn't follow one lousy sacred flowerbed rule—"

Ronon interrupted. "Or the sacred no-fly rule, or the sacred skirt rule, or the sacred bird rule—"

"For the last time, if it looks like a turkey, and it sounds like a turkey, it probably tastes like a turkey, so it isn't sacred!"

"Well, it certainly isn't sacred anymore," Ronon agreed.

"So I promise to respect planetary laws, and you call off your goons?" Sheppard asked Weir.

She stared him down. "You promise to respect planetary laws, and I consider it."

"Damn negotiator," he muttered. "All right, fine! From now on, first person I meet on every planet, I ask for a comprehensive list of what's holy and what I'm allowed to step on and/or shoot!"

Weir nodded, satisfied. "I suppose we don 't need any fights to the death, then."

"But I'm still allowed to shoot him off-world?" asked Ronon, just to be sure.

"If it seems necessary, of course," Weir said pleasantly. "Just use your best judgment. I've never had to bail _you_ out of jail."

The game had already started up again once everyone had realized the joke, and Weir, Teyla, and Sheppard went to join the group. Ronon headed back to the food. He wondered if he'd ever stop thinking in terms of Running, never knowing where (or when) his next meal might be. It was hard to shake the habit.

Someone followed him, and Ronon didn't have to look to know it was Teal'c. Another effect of years of Running. You learned not to look back.

"I wish to speak with you, Ronon Dex, if you do not mind," Teal'c said, indicating two chairs by the table.

Ronon shrugged, sitting and tearing into some bread. "Okay, talk," he said with his mouth full.

Teal'c sat, but he didn't speak right away. When he did, it was the last thing Ronon had expected. "Do you have children?"

Ronon stopped chewing mid-bite. "No," he said gruffly. He thought about Melena, and the times they'd talked about their future together, and suddenly it was hard to swallow.

"I do," said Teal'c, and Ronon could hear the pride in his voice. "A son. I will always think of him as a young man, although he is not nearly so young now. His third wedding anniversary will be later this month."

"Uh, congratulations," said Ronon, not sure what the guy expected.

Teal'c inclined his head, a gesture reminiscent of Teyla. "It is not the occasion for the Jaffa that it is for the Tau'ri, but a wedding anniversary is still a happy reminder of the passage of time. For so long, I thought that I would never witness another anniversary. Before that, I had given up my son for lost, a consequence of fighting for a cause in which I believed so fiercely. But to behold a love so true and so strong that all else pales in comparison...there is no greater joy in the universe."

Ronon thought about that. "I once took out a Wraith battalion with only one arm," he offered.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "I have not experienced such a joy."

"There's nothing like it. But your thing sounds good too."

Ronon ate in silence for a couple minutes, then, when he couldn't take it anymore, he asked, "So, your son. His love is that true and strong thing you were talking about?"

"I am unsure," Teal'c admitted. "That his love is true, I have no doubt. But their love is young and new, and to test its strength would require trials I hope he may never face. I was a poor husband, and I do not wish him to repeat my mistakes. I was referring to the love I have for my son. It is strong, and it is true, and I have only ever seen one couple rival it."

Ronon still wasn't sure where this was going. "Yeah?"

Teal'c nodded. "Indeed, sometimes I wonder if perhaps they even surpass it. They have proven they will sacrifice one another to save their people, and I do not know if I could sacrifice my son the same way. I believe such an act must require the tremendous devotion necessary to choose not what you would wish, but what your partner would wish."

"Look, we're talking about Carter and O'Neill, right?" asked Ronon bluntly.

"Yes," said Teal'c, surprised. "I thought I was being discreet."

"You were, but I'm not blind. No one's that blind." Ronon paused, then amended, "Well, no one but McKay. I don't get what this has to do with me, though."

"I watched Colonel Carter and General O'Neill for many years. Their love was forbidden, because the Tau'ri do not realize the importance of seizing happiness whenever possible, as you and I do. The Tau'ri did not live under the threat of the Goa'uld or the Wraith. As a people they do not know deep, heartrending loss, for they have never felt the specter of constant death hovering above them. Colonel Carter and General O'Neill made a grave mistake, and I wish now that I had done more to make them see that."

"Got it," said Ronon, nodding. "You want to get Carter and O'Neill together."

"No." Teal'c shook his head. "Their relationship is no longer forbidden. They are happily involved with one another."

"Look, I'm not big on punching around the bush," said Ronon, pleased he remembered the Earth phrase. "Say what you want to say."

"I believe Doctor Weir and Colonel Sheppard are making the same mistake," Teal'c said candidly.

Ronon stared. "Well, yeah. Everyone knows that." He paused again. "Everyone but McKay. Still don't see what I've got to do with it."

"You are not concerned?" asked Teal'c. "Do you not wish to see them happy?"

Ronon shrugged. "Sure. They're good people. They deserve to be happy."

"But you do not believe it is your concern."

"It's Sheppard. It's Weir. They're smart people. They'll figure it out."

Teal'c frowned disapprovingly. "They will be afraid. They will fear reaction, from Atlantis and from Earth. They will fear liability. They will fear the depth of their feelings. I have seen it. On their own, they will never acknowledge what they feel. They will refuse to take the risk."

"What risk?" asked Sheppard, coming over to grab a beer. "You guys come up with another certain-death mission for us to undertake?"

"Please, no," said Weir, joining him. Sheppard handed her a glass of lemonade, and she smiled at him. "I've had about all the certain-death missions my cardiac system can handle."

She said it lightly, but with the conversation with Teal'c still fresh in his mind, Ronon caught the undertone: she was sick of giving Sheppard up for dead. Ronon knew that feeling, he realized; he'd felt the same thing when Melena had refused to leave the hospital, no matter how he pleaded. And Weir had the same desperate look in her eyes that Melena had had, knowing Ronon had to stay and fight but trying to mask her fear for his sake. It was such a thoroughly depressing realization that Ronon didn't think he was really to blame for what he did next.

He stood up, grabbed Elizabeth Weir by the shoulders, and kissed her passionately.

There were a few seconds of stunned silence. Then someone pulled him off her, and before Ronon knew what was happening, a fist had slammed into his jaw.

"What the hell!" shouted Sheppard, shaking out his hand. "You better not be planning to do that again, Chewie, 'cause I think I just broke my hand, and that only leaves my gun to stop you."

"I told you! I told you!" squealed Vala. "The strong and silent type _and_ the dashing military man! Oh, some women just have all the luck."

"Vala, please," said Jackson, pinching his nose.

"If Martin Lloyd doesn't love this, he does _not_ deserve to be in show business..."

"Ronon?" asked Weir cautiously. "Why did you just kiss me?"

Ronon rubbed his jaw. "'Cause Sheppard certainly wasn't going to."

"Who _said_ I wasn't going to?" Sheppard demanded indignantly.

"Teal'c."

Teal'c glowered at him. "I certainly did not sanction such behavior."

"Well, maybe Teal'c has no idea what I was or wasn't going to do! And come to think of it, maybe SG-1 should start minding their own damn business!" Sheppard shouted.

"And former SG-1," added Weir dryly. She still seemed slightly in shock, her eyes flicking from Ronon to Sheppard to O'Neill, for some reason, and then back.

Ronon flopped down in his chair, bored. "Are you guys gonna profess your undying love now, or am I gonna have to kiss her again? 'Cause I don't mind kissing her again, but it's getting late, so I need to know."

"I like his style," said Vala approvingly. "See, McKay, I told you it would all work out in the end."

"You did not! You said it was tragic!"

"Well, all right, so I didn't specify for _whom_ exactly it would work out, but personally, I'm quite fond of the occasional tragedy, so it was bound to work out for someone."

"Perhaps we should let Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Weir discuss this privately," suggested Teal'c, and everyone else immediately went for the doors to the house, even though it would have made more sense for Sheppard and Weir to leave and let the others stay. No one mentioned that, though.

Finally only Ronon was left outside, just about to close the door behind him and join the others in pretending he wasn't spying on them.

"Just remember," he said to Sheppard with a grin, "if I don't like what you two come up with, I can always kiss her again."

He slammed the door shut just before Sheppard's impromptu hamburger missile could hit him. He turned to meet up with Teal'c, who was waiting for him inside the door.

"An unorthodox method," Teal'c said, "but effective."

"That's sort of what I do," Ronon grunted.

Teal'c considered him, then nodded solemnly. "You are truly worthy of your moniker. You do the noble warrior Chewbacca proud."

Ronon had no idea what he was talking about, and it must have shown.

"It is a compliment of the highest order," Teal'c assured him. "To celebrate this victory, I will share with you a recent spoil I have acquired. It is called a 'limited edition' box set, and it contains original theatrical versions of the warrior Chewbacca's finest moments..."

* * *

A/N: And that's the end! Thanks to everyone who gave me support on this, whether it was years ago or just recently. You'll never know how much I truly appreciated it; the Stargate fandom was a fantastic place to start as a young (oh my false gods, *so young*) writer, mostly because of all of you. So once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you!


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